


The Softest Kiss

by Five_star_hellhole



Category: Cassandra Palmer Series - Karen Chance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 20:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_star_hellhole/pseuds/Five_star_hellhole
Summary: Fred starts having some intense dreams and isn’t sure what to do. One shot.





	The Softest Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marcosburleybiceps](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Marcosburleybiceps).



Fred wasn’t sure how it started, but he most definitely wasn’t going to say anything. But day in and day out he was haunted by his thoughts. Nearly every night for a week he had been having intense dreams about that crazy lunatic… and he didn’t want them to stop. He had yet to wake up this week and not need to take a shower, deliciously being covered in sweat and other things. This morning’s shower was no different, as he scrubbed himself making sure to really lather up to remove any chance any of the others could smell what happened, he thought about why this could be happening. 

He knew he was straight, in his hundred years that had never really changed. He experimented a few times but in the end he just liked women more. And yet…. yet he was having dreams of a man that could possibly kill him if he was accidentally given decaf some morning instead of his usual heart attack in a cup. So, why could he not stop thinking about soft lips kissing his neck, blunt teeth nibbling at his collar bone, and vibrant green eyes never wavering as they watched him quake? Just thinking about it was having him quickly turn the shower cold to head off any inconvenient problems. He was due to play bodyguard in twenty minutes and didn’t have time to deal with the consequences caused by memories of calloused hands running along his back or the smell of magic and gunpowder filling his senses. 

Fred groaned slightly in despair before forcing himself out of the shower and drying off. “Just don’t think about it” he told himself sternly, “you will not say anything, you will not do anything, and god help you Fredrick you will not think about how grabbable his ass is”. He paused in his drying off and looked at himself in the slightly fogged over mirror. He nodded once and scowled at himself, “Damn straight… literally.” With that he stomped out of the bathroom and began ruthlessly getting dressed before hurrying up to the suite. He pushed open the door and was immediately confronted by the sound of a borderline screaming match between the mage and some unknown person just out of sight. The sound of his barely controlled anger had Fred’s fangs lengthening in anticipation. BDSM had been one of the themes of last night’s dream. 

Before he could intervene Pritkin was striding passed him, fury radiating off him, before exiting the suite and slamming the door behind him. Which, Fred mused, was not completely unheard of. But still, he felt slightly hurt that he hadn’t even been given a passing glance. He mentally shook himself and took over guard duty. It would be a long day.

******  
12 hours later.

Fred had been right, it was an exhaustingly long day. The more time he spent at court the more he seemed to lose his stamina. Too many catastrophes in too short of a time. Today he barely made it into his bed before passing out. The dreams started immediately. He never got a clear look at his face but he had no doubt who it was. His personal scent filling his nose, the feel of a wet tongue gliding along his sternum. Distantly he could feel himself tossing and turning in bed, trying to get closer to that gorgeous mouth, moaning as he became lost in the feeling created by those magically hands.  
A blinding flash of light and the sound of an explosion had him leaping out of bed and ready to run to the suite, his dream shattering. But he barely made it two feet before confusion started to reign. In front of him stood John in the doorway, the door hanging off one of its hinges. On the bed laid what must be his doppelgänger, stretched out in a silk obsidian shirt and grey slacks wearing a Cheshire smile as he propped himself up on one elbow.

“What is going on?” Fred asked a little shrilly.

“The hell are you doing?!” John snapped enraged at his twin.

“What does it look like I’m doing? The hotel is vacant and I have to eat.” The man, thing, whatever the hell he was, replied smoothly. Fred was rapidly starting to both pass out from anxiety and die of embarrassment while the two continued to bicker. If he was following their conversation, that continued on without him as neither had decided to fill him in on whatever fresh hell was happening, the gist seemed to be that this incubus was keeping watch over the hotel as part of their alliance with the demon council and had decided to snack on him whenever the opportunity presented itself because it was too lazy to go look any farther.

“You will not touch or go near anyone in this hotel or so help me I will throw you into the shadowland and leave you at the mercy of the brothels you still owe.” John growled through clenched teeth at the intruder.

“Dear boy, I will never understand where your high strung nature came from but it has not improved the longer you have stayed around that harpy…” before it could say another word John was on it and a fist fight erupted on his bed. The bizarre sight of two Pritkin wresting was going to stay with him for awhile, in a good way or bad way he wasn’t sure.

After of few minutes of fighting that resulted in two broken lamps and a smashed side table they broke apart and glared at each other. “Fine” The suave looking clone said, “I’ll keep my hands off and hunt outside the premises just to keep you happy.” As he straightened his shirt and combed his hand through his hair. “The things we sacrifice for…” he abruptly stopped when John hissed at him through his teeth. Fred just looked on pale faced and confused.

The clone smirked at John before sighing and turning to Fred. “Well, it was fun while it lasted. If you’d like to volunteer for a go around just let me know” he winked at him before whispering “John will never need to know”. With that he disappeared and Fred was left in his destroyed room with a very put upon looking war mage. John just looked at him before spinning on his foot and strolling out of the room “I don’t even want to know” he called back over his shoulder before disappearing up the stairwell.

“No” Fred thought as he sat heavily down on his bed, “you definitely don’t”.


End file.
